Sitting in her apartment that week, Eddie had probably spent a solid hour on each individual channel as she flicked through the TV. She'd thought she was going to use the week to do all the things she never had time to do when she was working – see friends, go clothes shopping, call her mom. But the combination of physical pain and emotional exhaustion meant that she'd spent most of the last five days sitting around her apartment watching TV. Which was probably not helping her mental state – but that was a vicious cycle.

When she'd told Jamie to stop by any time after he'd dropped her off at home, she'd expected to see him. Maybe not as often as she'd really have liked, but at this point it was basically unheard of for them to go a week without seeing each other at all. Even when they'd been temporarily reassigned for various reasons, they usually found their way to each other after shift almost every night, even just to touch base in the precinct before going their separate ways. It wasn't really a concerted effort, it just happened. So she hadn't expected to be avoided by him for the last five days, with only a phone call here and there. But when she thought about it, she wasn't really surprised.

Riding together for as long as they had, and seeing as much shit on the job as they did, they knew each other's coping mechanisms. She usually started out stony, letting all the emotion build up inside until it inevitably exploded out all over the place – which had even happened to some extent in her confession of feelings a few months before. Jamie was like her in that he let all his emotions build up in him, but somehow, he never really let them burst out. Maybe it was a guy thing or just a Reagan thing, but somehow getting him to acknowledge how he was feeling was like pulling teeth. So she'd learned to read what he wasn't saying – she had to, if she ever wanted to get anywhere with him. And what she'd gotten from him this week at the hospital was not encouraging.

He'd been overprotective of her for a while – she always called to mind her first day off probation, when he'd tackled a guy who'd hit her and been reprimanded by Renzulli. And despite (or perhaps because of) his reluctance to talk about it, she knew that his last partner's death had taken a lot out of him, so she could understand why this incident would have thrown him for a loop. But this was the fundamental difference between the two of them – if their situations had been reversed, she didn't know how she'd have gotten through the past ten days without talking to him about it, or airing her feelings somehow to hopefully take away some of their intensity. For him, though, it was natural to regress into himself, as though by doing so he could pretend the feelings, whatever they were, weren't there. She found it a little bit infuriating, but had decided to give him some leeway this time. For what she also knew about Jamie Reagan was that he usually did come around. It took a lot of time and sometimes a lot of effort, but usually even her stoic partner would have to let something out. She just didn't know what form that would take this time, or what it would entail for their partnership.

There might have been a small, messed up part of her that hoped that this would shake Jamie out of his idea that the only way she could stay safe on the streets was through him having her back - maybe even make him reconsider some of the decisions he'd made a few months back. But she would never have admitted that to anyone. Frankly, she hated herself a little bit for thinking it. Deep down, there was a part of her that a few months ago had wanted to just transfer out of the twelfth – force his hand, in a sense. But the larger voice of reason in her head that was afraid of shaking the delicate balance they'd worked out tended to win out over her impulsivity.

So when Jamie chose to avoid her, she let him. Not wanting to scare him off by being too forward, she chatted lightly to him on the phone and pretended not to see through his paper-thin excuses. Her hope was that once they were forced to see each other at work they'd be able to go back to normal. So she sat around at home and watched old reruns of Grey's Anatomy, hoping the sordid TV love affairs would turn her mind off of romance for a while.

A knock on the door startled her, and she snapped off the TV. Her buzzer hadn't gone off, so whoever this was must have snuck up with another resident, or else have the wrong address. She got up slowly, wincing in pain, and undid the deadbolt, preparing to turn away a lost delivery worker with a drunk neighbor's late-night Chinese food binge. When she opened the door, though, the person standing there laden with bags of takeout wasn't a skinny teenage boy, but her partner, leaning against her doorway and looking rather drained.

"Jamie?" He looked up when she said his name and stood up straighter, a tight smile working onto his face. She swung the door wider. "Want to come in?"

He nodded wordlessly, following her inside and swinging the door shut behind him before setting the bags down on the counter and turning back to her. They looked at each other for a moment and she felt this ridiculous urge to go hug him. She smiled up at him instead. "How are you?"

He seemed to be startled by the question, as though even though he was in her apartment he hadn't realized she was there. "I'm good. I'm good. How are you? How's the wing?"

"It's all right." When he didn't respond, she tacked on more to the sentence. "I'm starting physical therapy tomorrow, which might be good. But you know, I've sort of just been sitting around, so it might be a bitch to get back into moving it. Guess I have to, though, can't go back on patrol with a bum arm." She felt herself starting to ramble and trailed off, looking up at him expectantly.

He nodded at her absently. "Yeah, that's good."

She looked up at him concernedly. He'd come over to her place, ostensibly to, you know, hang out with her, but now he was there and didn't seem to even realize she was talking to him. "Jamie. You okay?"

At that, he focused in on her. "Huh? Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You seem a little…out of it."

He snorted. "Yeah, well. I was just up at my grandpa's and he busted out his good scotch. Not like I'm working any time soon, so I might've had a few more than usual."

She looked at him skeptically. Over the last four years, she'd gotten to know drunk Jamie very well, and this was not drunk Jamie. But she played along. "Yeah? You drive yourself over, boy scout?"

He rolled his eyes. "I took a cab, thanks, Mom."

She winced in mock betrayal. "Ouch, mom-zoned. That's harsh, Reagan."

It was a bad joke, sure, but she didn't think it warranted the look of – almost pain that shot across his face. "Sorry," he responded, forcing a chuckle but not meeting her eyes.

She looked up at him for a moment before shaking her head and stepping towards the counter. "Wanna eat? Did you bring anything good?"

"Sure." His response was affirmative, but he made no move to help her unload the food from the bags, instead just standing there in his spot as though he was anchored to the floor. She placed down one of the takeout containers with a thud and turned back to him.

"Jesus, Reagan. What is going on with you?" Her outburst wasn't angry, exactly, but it was emphatic enough that he took a step back.

"What do you – "

"You've been avoiding me all week. You're dodging my calls, and when you do pick up you're all full of excuses about how you're just sooo busy, because I know how being suspended really takes up so much time." Her tone took on a decided edge of sarcasm here before sliding back into concern. "And now you come over here at ten o'clock at night without calling or anything, which is fine, by the way, but now you're here and you're acting like you don't even hear me! What gives? And don't tell me nothing's going on, Jamie. Because we both know that's bull."

When she finished, she realized she'd been stepping closer to him throughout her tirade. He had backed up almost unconsciously in response, so that he was now leaning against the counter and she was about a foot away from him. He looked up at the ceiling, then fixed his eyes on a point just past her head, as though looking at her would completely derail whatever control he had.

From her vantage point, she could see his face working, as though he was trying to prevent whatever he was feeling from revealing itself in his expression. Something about watching him trying to contain himself softened her a little. "Look, Jamie. I know this whole thing – ", she used her good hand to gesture towards her sling, "has freaked you out. I can't even imagine how you must've felt. But don't do this. Don't go all dark and twisty."

He forced his eyes over to hers at that and furrowed his brow. "Dark and twisty?"

She shook her head. "Just, you know. Don't get all caught up in your head. You can talk to me about this stuff."

He nodded, biting his lip. "I know. And I appreciate that."

She looked up at him as though more was forthcoming. When he didn't speak, she decided to pry a little more. "Look, you don't have to. But I can't imagine you just came over to bring me Chinese food at ten PM. So if you want to talk about it, I got nowhere to be." As though to emphasize her point, she grabbed one of the Chinese food containers and a fork and sat down on the couch, trying to pry the lid off with one hand without spilling it all over herself.

He watched her wrestle for a moment, then took pity on her, sitting down and popping the lid off before handing the container back to her, a wry smile creeping onto his face. She rolled her eyes at his amused expression. "Thanks."

He nodded. "Don't mention it."

He watched her eat for a moment before she looked back over at him. She didn't even need to say anything this time, just quirked an eyebrow at him. He looked away like a kid who'd been reminded of a chore he'd hoped had been forgotten. "Alright, alright. Just…give me a second."

She nodded and patted his arm, studiously looking away as though to give him privacy to think. When he started to speak, she made an effort not to look back at him, not wanting to make him feel put on the spot.

"I never expected you, Eddie."

Despite all her efforts to the contrary, the ambiguity of his statement made her look back. He was looking down at his lap, but she could tell he was intently aware of her movements. She really had intended on this going down without any prodding from her, but when a minute passed by without any further explanation, she had to ask. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Before, I always liked who I was riding with – I mean, eventually. But it was never, like, they were that important to me." He shook his head. "That's not right. I mean, whoever's your partner, that's pretty important, and that was always true. But it was like – if we hadn't been riding together, I probably would never have crossed paths with them, you know?"

He looked up at her as though for confirmation, and she nodded. "I hate to break it to you, Reagan, but we're pretty different."

He snorted. "I know. I know that. Just – it's different, somehow, with you. You're – you're not just my partner. You're my best friend. I never really had that with anyone I rode with before, you know? Not until you."

He'd stopped looking at her by then, in some kind of attempt to salvage his last shreds of emotional restraint, but at that point it didn't matter. Hearing his words had snapped her back to that night a few months ago when she'd stopped by his place out of the blue in much the same manner.

You're the best person I think I've ever met, and you're the best friend that I've ever had.
I know that you're my partner, and I don't want to do anything to screw that up. I just want you to know that you're so much more than that.

Was that what this was? Had her getting shot done to Jamie what Tara had done to her? She stared down at the floor, her mind spinning.

"You with me?" Jamie's voice had shifted to gentle concern, and his hand on her good arm jolted her back to reality. She looked up at him and saw his face full of pure confusion and friendly concern, and mentally cursed herself. It said something about the state of her own mind, she thought, that his declaration of platonic friendship for her had her going down this rabbit hole of romantic delusions. She forced a smile back to her face.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm listening." Realizing that he'd just opened up more than he probably did in the average month, and that she couldn't reasonably be annoyed at him for not living up to the conclusions she'd jumped to, she felt she should give him a little more. "And you know that's all true for me too. I've told you that."

He nodded, having the grace at least not to acknowledge the circumstances under which she'd told him that. "Eddie, you – you're my best friend. And my partner. And seeing you like that, bleeding like that in the street – that really got in my head."

She nodded. "Mine too."

He half-smiled at that before shifting tack. "You know, after…what happened with Vinny, I got scared. When Renzulli first put me with you, I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I could handle being – in charge of you."

"In charge of me?" She narrowed her eyes in mock irritation.

He laughed, caught between being annoyed and grateful that she'd broken the moment. "That's not – you know what I mean. I didn't think I was ready to be responsible for a rookie." She gave him a grudging nod. His voice shifted to seriousness. "Frankly, at that point I didn't know if I was cut out for the job at all."

She'd intended to stop interrupting, but she couldn't control herself at that. "It wasn't your fault, Jamie. You're a great cop."

He closed his eyes and nodded. "I know. But at the time, I felt like there was something I could have done to – prevent it from happening, or something." He saw her shaking her head sympathetically and hastened to add on. "I know, I know there wasn't. But it really felt that way."

She shook her head. "Catholic guilt. I'm telling you." Her tone was light, but when she met his eyes a silent understanding passed between them.

He scrubbed a hand over his face before he continued. "So something like this happening – like you getting shot – that was like, my biggest fear. That one day I'd have to watch you bleed out in the street, and not be able to do anything about it. I thought about it, all the time. And that was right when I met you, even before – " He stopped there, shaking his head. She'd heard him struggle to keep his voice from breaking as he spoke, and she resisted the urge to reach for him.

"Before what?" She kept her voice soft, not wanting to seem like she was prodding too much.

He looked away from her and up at the ceiling before meeting her eyes again. "Before – before I got to know you. Before we became friends." He saw her face fall imperceptibly at that and added on. "The thought of losing a partner scared the crap out of me, and then it became the fear of losing you, and that was worse. And I think all that sort of snowballed this week and it ended up with me ignoring you, which was – not the right way to handle it. So I'm sorry."

There was genuine guilt on his face and he was almost avoiding her eyes. Impulsively, she reached over and took his hand. "You don't have to apologize. For any of it." He knew that she meant the shooting, too, and felt a rush of gratitude to her for reading him so well. "I get where you're coming from, Jamie. This is what you do – you get scared and you push people away, and I get it. Just – you can't do that to me."

He nodded, closing his eyes. "I know. I don't want to. It just happens."

"I know."

They sat there in silence for a moment, Eddie's forgotten Chinese food container resting on her lap as her good hand was still intertwined with Jamie's. After a minute, he slid his fingers out from between hers and moved to stand. "I should go."

She moved the container to the coffee table and stood up with him. "It's late, Jamie. You don't have to." She knew he wouldn't stay – after any kind of personal confession he usually needed to go off by himself for a while – but she figured it couldn't hurt to try.

He shook his head. "I should let you get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow – PT's no joke." He grinned at her and she smiled back involuntarily. They stood there looking at each other for a moment; for all Jamie'd said he had to go, he didn't seem too eager to do so.

She looked up at him, not wanting to rush him by any means but also wondering if it was something he'd left unsaid that had him frozen there. "Everything alright?"

He nodded, meeting her eyes, before stepping closer and pulling her into his arms in one fluid motion. She was startled at first, and stiffened, but once she realized what he needed she relaxed into him, wrapping her good arm around him. Her forehead rested against his chest and she could feel his heart racing as he rested his chin on the top of her head. As they stood there, she could feel his breathing slow and match the pace of hers, and it struck her that even with their history this was one of the more intimate moments they'd had. She felt herself starting to relax as well – she hadn't realized how worried she'd been about him until just now, when having him finally here and honest made her feel as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders.

They stood there holding each other for a moment until she felt Jamie start to pull away. She'd known they couldn't stay there forever, of course, and she'd also known that he'd be the one to let her go – that was just how these things went between them. It was reluctantly, though, that she released him and stepped back. She saw it as encouraging that he didn't refuse to make eye contact with her after they let each other go; instead, he smiled at her and squeezed her arm affectionately. "Good night, partner."

"Good night, Jamie." She followed him to the door and watched him as he stepped outside, turning back to give her a nod and a wave. Then she swung the door shut behind her, though part of her had wanted to wait to go back inside till he'd gotten on the elevator. After swinging the door shut and fastening the deadbolt, she crossed the apartment to the window that looked out to the front of the building and adjusted the blinds so that she could see out. It only took a moment before she saw him come out of the building, walking up to the curb and standing there for a few moments before hailing a cab that approached – nothing short of a miracle, on her street at this hour. As he swung open the door to the taxi, he cast a look back up to her window. She knew she should duck away – it was definitely weird for her to be watching him like this – but she stood there frozen. He didn't seem to see her, but she saw a grin flash across his face before he turned away and climbed into the cab.


A/N: Here we have the second heart-to-heart (and the one people actually wanted to see!). Hope this has helped to satisfy some of the loose ends from the last few chapters.

I think that the next chapter will be the last - if it ends up being really long I may split it into two but the story is almost over. That should hopefully be up sometime in the next week.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!